Pankac3s RP Story
Pankac3 -- An Epic *DISCLAIMER* This is a story based on real server stuff that happened, but when I make references to events most of the adjectives are not personal. For example: I use the Skytown/Highorder war on vanilla as a plot point, and I make them sound like the Devil. I do not mean it. I love those guys. Almost all of this is just a storybook for storybooks sake. The only adjectives that apply are those out of love for members of Highorder. The land was in days of strife. Wars, plague, famine, and lag swept mercilessly across the land. It was to this that I arrived. I was greeted as a god, for god I was. Banished from my exotic land of Ghargon for a crime I was innocent of, I journeyed to this distant land in hopes that the administrators would be kinder. I was greeted by an individual with a pumpkin on his head, whom I offered to take into my home. Little did I know that I was treating with royalty. The next morning, I awoke in my humble abode to find that this simple man who wore a pumpkin on his head was transformed into a King, with a golden scepter and crown to match. Kneeling before him, I asked him, "lord, how may I serve you?" He replied to me, "Good Sir Pankac3, you have done more than enough to earn my favor. Go and do the same for others, and join me in my quest to bring justice and light to this world." I readily agreed, and packed my bags. That's when I found out he was a nomad and that this was his only house. Anyhow, we left and journeyed a good two chunks away to the place where Commando, a hardened military fellow waited alongside Fantome, an able battlemage with a penchant for the unknown. These two welcomed me with open arms, when we heard a horse gallop in from behind us. "Stop!" Bellowed Commando, sword already drawn and shield in hand, "You are trespassing in the Holy Lands of Highorder, reserved for lord Atmos alone! Know you of whom we speak?" "Of course," replied the mysterious knight in a cool, even tone. "I am his devoted follower as well, and have come by his holy order to seek your company and ride with you on your never ending quest to slay the darkness in its tracks." "Have you a name?" I inquired. "My name is Palanthas, I am a knight from a distant realm and am here by Holy order." At this we all knelt, Palanthas was a holy name. Immediately claiming the chunk as holy, we built a shrine and continued on our way to base. They were good times. But then the war came. Penetrating through all walls, all relationships, brother against commando, pumpkin against melon. These were bitter times. The Ancient Varla race was warring with us for the first time in millennia. We prepared for war, but we prepared in vain. A select few craven assassins attacked using black magic, slaughtering the women and children still in slumber. The wise and good majority of the Varla wanted peace, but a select number of them were bloodthirsty people who were insatiable towards the lust of power. They came at night, those deadly assassins. It was a massacre. Villagers were slaughtered left and right, only to be slaughtered again as they re-entered the holy city via re-spawn. I awoke to see Pumpkin_Lord swinging his double flanged mace around his head, Commando slicing through a Varla recruit, and Fantome enchanting the animals to attack the enemy: each one of them dealing innumerable amounts of damage to the enemy lines. Despite our heroes, we were dearly outnumbered, and victory seemed slim until Palanthas came with a rousing battle cry and loosed the Highorderian archers upon the ranks of the Varla. HardBoiledSheep detonated hidden TNT caches, destroying hundreds of the enemy at a time. For a time it seemed as though victory was in our grasp, but we slowly fell back again. The combined forces of the Varla and several barbarian tribes were too much for our doubty force. We fought to the last man; I watched as my comrades fell in battle; one by one. At last, I was the only one left. So it was that in 410 AD Highorder City was sacked by the Varla. In the confusion, I regret to say that I fled. The city was sacked, Palanthas had gone--nowhere to be seen, and I had fled the land, searching again for a new home. Some time later, I attempted to make amends with the BODy of the Varla, but the fallow man rejected my plea and I faded back into oblivious pain. It is a gift of those from Ghargon to be able to slip away into a painless slumber until danger is at an end, and all can be resolved. In our dreamlike states we can visit the incorporeal realm, and discuss matters of great import with our greater brethren: the upper gods. During my slumber, I went on a ethereal pilgrimage to the holy city of Aether where I consulted lords Stratos, the God of Might, Thermos, the God of Wealth, Mesos, the God of Prosperity, Tropos, the God of Glory, and Atmos, the God of Order; who gave me gifts according to their respective powers. "To you, O' brave pankac3 I give strength." thundered lord Stratos, and I felt new strength flood my veins. "To you, O' steward I grant large coffers, that you may never be in want." spoke lord Thermos, and the my pockets were filled with gold. "To you, O' generous one, I grant innumerable amounts of materials, that all may partake of your belongings." granted Mesos, lord of prosperity, and I turned and saw behind me a thousand crystal chests, all filled with glorious riches. "To you, O' accomplished mortal, I grant that your name shall be name throughout all the earth, and none shall hear your name without bent knee nor a word of praise." continued lord Tropos, and I immediately heard the sounds of thousands crying out my name. "For you, O' Ghargon of great worth, I have no gifts, for you are lacking in nothing," said lord Atmos, in his wisdom, "instead, I give you advice. Never grow arrogant in your power or riches or fame, or all shall be lost for you. Continue in your wise and honorable path, and you shall rule all of the world! Do you agree to this covenant I have made with you today?” “Aye!” I shouted with every bone in my body in agreeance. “Then let it be done!” shouted lord Atmos, and the dream realm faded away into the cold hard world, where I saw Commando shaking my arm. I looked around: hadn’t I taken my rest in a glorious city? What then was this rubble that I beheld? Surely not my beloved Highorder city, surely not... As the days wandered on in endless inanity, I wondered if my Ghargonsleep had been in vain. Had I not left to improve for everyone? Had I not left to make others happy? My sacrifice was not the solution to the problem; it was a catalyst. As I walked the empty halls, cracked and groaning under my weight, I asked myself if there was any point. Coming to the roof, I looked up to my old home: once it was revered, a standard of truth! Now it was nothing more than a ransacked barn. I looked the other way, hopeful for my future. I beheld a disaster. The library was burnt, so many books were burning that in several months they hadn’t quit their smoldering. The glorious library was in flames. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Worry not, pankac3,” my dear friend, commando said, “we can rebuild. Highorder will be a great nation once again! All shall shout its name in praise!” “No,” I disagreed, “Highorder is a shadow of its former self. Never again shall these glorious towers reflect the morning sun. Never again shall the fountain glint in the midnight moon. These mountains are empty; they hold nothing for me now.” As I spoke these words, a light brighter than the sun surrounded us all. I felt my soul tug from my body, my armor and weapons left behind. A voice boomed out across the land, but it felt like it spoke only to me. “Let us begin anew! Let sun rise, but a different sun. Let the moon set, but a different moon than now. Let the Age of Tekknology begin!” The voice faded into the distance, leaving behind it a wake of energy like nebula clouds on my homeland. The horizon faded away, and we fell together. Commando and pankac3, endlessly falling into oblivion. Suddenly I awoke. I awoke in a room by myself: structured like the Orientals of distant Earth. I looked around and saw no one. The code of honor stood on three walls, and I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw it: a computer. Examining it, I found it to be a primitive technology compared to my peoples, but it was a start. Looking around me, I realized that architecturally the world had also improved. More detail had been inscribed into benches, trimmings, and flying buttresses. I exited the room to find a land lush with scenery. Walking down the path, I saw a familiar looking orange head down the road. “Lord Pumpkin!” I shouted, “Lord Pumpkin it is you at last!” “Pankac3! Finally you have rejoined us! Was your Ghargonsleep profitable?” He asked tentatively. “I am afraid that through my inactivity I have created a calamity far greater than any that we could have predicted. I hope that I can redeem myself in your eyes?” “There is nothing to forgive.” Lord Pumpkin graciously continued, “I only hope that you shall continue to stay with us throughout this new land, and help us to learn many new things through your extended knowledge.” “I am a foreigner to this land, just as you are. I shall however try my best to learn the foreign ways.” We walked off into the distance, where my Lord Pumpkin said, “This is where I must leave you now; be strong, and return to this spot at the end of a fortnight. Keep watch for our fellow members. I must find a land to resettle and rebuild.” “Even when the day grows long and my beard reaches below my feet I shall wait for you, my Lord.” I stated matter-of-factly. “Good. Farewell, faithful servant!” “Farewell!” And I was alone again. Night fell, and day broke. I saw a lone figure passing down the road. I rose to greet him, when I realized that it was a Varla, of days past. A sudden fear gripped me, and I took great pains to hide myself as he passed me by. He did not notice me. When he finally faded into the horizon, I breathed a sigh of relief. When I saw another pass me by, I resolved that I would face him no matter the consequences. The next person to pass, luckily, was a close friend of mine: D’Fantome, of the Highorder Legionnaires. Greeting him with open hands and an open heart, I informed him of our Lord Pumpkins great scheme. He agreed heartily with him, and left to join Lord Pumpkin, leaving me alone again. As time passed, the Lords Commando and Pumpkin came up to my humble abode and bade me follow, to the fertile lands they had acquired from the local magistrate. I did so, and beheld a glorious field. It was a field. Highorder, MY Highorder, was a field. As disappointed as I was, Lord Pumpkin picked up relatively fast to my displeasure. “What is it Pankac3? Highorder wasn’t built in a day you know full well.” “I know,” I replied wistfully, “but I assumed that we had made a start in the time you had had.” As time passed however, Highorder grew as a people in wisdom and power and glory until it was as great a nation as the old one had been. We were missing some people, notably Sir Palanthas, but it was a start. A start to the new world.